


Fantasy

by KingDorkus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ages adjusted to fit the story, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Author is trans, Background relationships and characters may be mentioned, But they are in college, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Human Genji Shimada, Human Zenyatta, Hurt/Comfort, I'll try to keep this updated, M/M, MMORPGs, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, The angst is unrelated to Hanzo being trans btw, Their dad was just a huge douchebag, There might be some dysphoria related scenes but I'll be sure to add a chapter warning if there is, There's going to be very few scenes if any at college, They were never yakuza in this one, Trans Hanzo Shimada, Trans Male Character, Video Game Mechanics, Virtual Reality, Wish me luck lmao, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 05:52:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingDorkus/pseuds/KingDorkus
Summary: Hanzo had never been one to play games, either in the literal or emotional sense. Both of those were Genji's areas of expertise. He preferred his life and fantasies to be straightforward and realistic, much like he was. But when he finds himself wearing his brother's VR visor, exploring a magical world in a new body, he wonders if he can allow himself just one fantastical respite from modern life. Where the cowboy fits into all of this, he has no idea.Virtual Reality/MMORPG AU.





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first Overwatch AU, so I hope you'll forgive a little ooc-ness while I find my bearings. Any warnings for chapter content will be found at the beginning of each chapter. 
> 
> Content Warning: Semi-descriptive panic attack.
> 
> If there's anything you need me to add a warning for, please tell me!

The bright lights shining within the bus made it nearly impossible to see the ever-shifting dark landscape through one's own reflection on the large bus windows. Hanzo's gaze was locked on the window's surface as it always was when riding the bus, but instead of blurs of trees and cars, it was met with the image of brown eyes framed by dark lashes, pupils dilating as they tried to focus on their own details. Those same eyes took in the dark bags, the clean-shaven chin (despite being nearly three years on t, the only facial hair he was able to grow was too patchy and unkempt to be called a beard, and he'd rather go without than look like a scruffy teenager who tried shaving for the first time and failed miserably), the bridge piercing and the cartilage piercings that accompanied it, and the fuzzy undercut. He'd have to shave it again soon before it got too long and the short hairs started sticking up in strange places.

He added it to his mental to-do list, then added it to the to-do list on his phone for good measure. The end of the week was nearing, so the list wasn't too overwhelming, mostly just house chores that he could get done on his day off tomorrow and homework that he was going to kick himself for putting off until Sunday, but would put off until Sunday anyways. He remembered a time when he got all of his work done early, got straight A's, and tutored other students, going above and beyond to impress and instill pride in a father that was never impressed, but always proud. Too proud, some might say. But now he had no one that he was striving to impress, a job that took up the evenings of his weekdays, and college had broken him. He found that college was good at that sort of thing, as most students would attest to.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as his eyes caught on the faintly visible, but very familiar visage of a dingy corner store passing out of the window's view. He frantically twisted around, trying to keep it in his eyesight as if that would somehow fix his newly-acquired predicament. Groaning, Hanzo slouched in his seat and dejectedly pulled the pull cord tacked along the window's frame. He had missed his stop.

 

* * *

The mile long walk home from the next stop was spent with his keys clenched between white knuckles. Hanzo didn't live in a good enough neighborhood for there to be streetlights or sidewalks, so his path was illuminated only by the intermittent passing of cars' headlights. His long-sleeve t-shirt had been plenty warm for the day's activities, but he found it to be unsuitable to combat the night's chill for an extended period of time and he could feel the prickle of goosebumps gathering on his skin. Hesitant to appear smaller and weaker, he resisted the urge to draw in on himself against the cold. Instead, he fixed his posture, holding his head up high and looking behind him every few hundred feet to make sure that no one was following him.

The walk didn't delay Hanzo's homecoming by too much, but with the buses only running their routes once an hour after six, he regularly got home decently late anyways. His late returns had always made Aiko anxious, so he was only mildly surprised when the house's screen door opened before he even reached for the handle. A wave of guilt ran through him as he met the anxious eyes of the petite form beyond the door's threshold.

“You're late. Is everything okay?” Aiko asked, taking an aborted step towards him before thinking better of it. Her outstretched hand changed its course to tuck a wisp of gently greying hair behind one ear, while her eyes scanned his form with forced casualty. Hanzo gently dropped the keys from between his knuckles, holding them by their softly swaying lanyard. Aiko's eyes caught the movement, flicking downward, but she said nothing.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly, sliding past her and into the front hall. “I missed my stop.” He toed off his shoes next to the others resting beneath the coat rack. He heard both the screen and wood doors close and lock behind him.

Aiko waited for him to continue before, realizing that that had been the end of his explanation, she offered, “You should've called me. I would've driven you home.”

Hanzo made his way to their small kitchen, blinking blearily as the dim kitchen lights hit his tired eyes.

Despite his best efforts, his next words started with a yawn, “I didn't want to bother you. I'm fine, you don't need to worry.”

“Poor thing, you must be exhausted.” She passed him, rooting through the cabinet before pulling out a mug and placing it on the counter. Her hand hovered over a second mug. “You know it's no bother. Honestly, I'd prefer if you let me drive you home myself, but I know how you feel about that...Tea?” she asked, her hand now gripping the second mug's handle.

“No. Thank you. I'm going to head to bed,” he answered, sparing a glance towards her soft smile before shuffling off towards his room.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Aiko.” Her smile fell.

 

* * *

The short journey to his room was cut even shorter by the bright green light filtering into the hallway and burning at his tired eyes. He squinted as he looked to the source, eyes meeting with the glowing, open doorway of Genji's room. Of course it was Genji. It was always Genji. He peeked his head through the doorway, eyes scanning the room in search of the source of the light and immediately finding it attached to the form of Genji himself.

His brother was lying spread-eagle on top of his comforter and the lights above him were off. Hanzo might have mistaken him for being asleep if it weren't for the visor clasped snugly to his face, obscuring his eyes and glowing the same neon green as his vibrantly dyed hair. He recognized it as one of his brother's gaming devices, though he was positive that it hadn't glowed bright green before. _Did he customize it in some way? Go out of his way to make it just as obnoxiously over the top as the rest of him?_ He huffed at the thought. The light was almost eerie, repainting the features of the room and its occupant in shades of green.

Hanzo's eyes flicked back to his brother as a small shiver went through his frame, green light highlighting the twitching muscles of his arms. Fraternal instinct urged him forward and he made his way past the bed, reaching for the blanket draped over the papasan chair in the corner of the room. The blanket was an old, soft thing, and he remembered when Aiko had knitted it and its matching partner for Genji and Hanzo when they were young. They had even gotten to pick the yarn that she would use for them, he reminisced, fingers buried in the soft yarn. Genji had picked the horrendous combination of bright orange and green stripes. Their small family had long since been desensitized to seeing the lovechild of a carrot and a pair of legwarmers around the house, but every time one of his brother's friends came over, Hanzo could hear their questions about the well-loved monstrosity through the thin wall between their bedrooms. It was always good for a good laugh. To be fair, Genji had been five at the time, and Hanzo remembers being told that his favorite color at the age of five had been “rainbow”, so maybe he didn't have too much room to judge.

His own blanket had been made with a mixture of blue and grey yarn, dark but calming, like the sky when it rained. He had had to leave it in Japan.

Hanzo frowned and untangled his fingers from where they had wound themselves within the soft stitches of the blanket. He turned back to his still-shivering brother and threw the blanket over his thin shoulders. It only reached his shins. After a moment of consideration, he shrugged to himself and pulled the blanket up further until it covered the other man's face and headgear, dulling the light it was emitting. Hanzo allowed himself a small chuckle before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Patting himself on the back for fulfilling his brotherly duties for the day, he meandered to his own room and bed, taking only enough time to strip off his jeans before he was under the covers, blissfully unconscious.

 

* * *

 As usual, Hanzo woke well before the other two. By an hour and a half in Aiko's case, and by a whole six hours in Genji's. He had no idea why someone who frequently played games where his body was basically sleeping needed that much real sleep in addition to it, but he never had been much of a gamer, so what did he know? Still, he suspected that it was really just Genji being lazy.

By the time his brother emerged from his room, green hair mussed by sleep into a hairstyle that would put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame, Hanzo had already showered, made them all breakfast, and was halfway done with the household chores. Seeing his hedgehog-esque brother lumbering towards the kitchen, he put the now-cold plate of smiley face bacon and eggs (the way that Genji insisted bacon and eggs _must_ be prepared) into the microwave.

“Yo,” Genji greeted, rubbing blearily at his sleep-encrusted eyes. He sat down at the kitchen table, resting his chin on a bent knee and quietly thanked his brother when he handed him the warm plate of bacon and eggs. Hanzo went to get him a fork, only to turn back and find him shoveling eggs into his mouth with his hands like a goddamn caveman. His face pinched in disgust, Hanzo maintained eye contact with Genji, shaking his head as he pointedly replaced the fork in the silverware drawer. Genji just stuck his tongue out at him, taking no extra effort to clear it of mushed up bits of egg beforehand. Hanzo gagged slightly at the sight, briskly walking away from the scene as he heard Aiko gently chastising her son behind him.

 

* * *

 Hanzo had _told_ his brother that he was doing laundry today. Politely asked him to have his clothes in his hamper before he left the house, to make it easier on the both of them. He didn't want to go rooting through the other man's room picking up his discarded clothes any more than Genji probably wanted him to. But Hanzo was in charge of doing the laundry, among other things. It was one of his ways of making it up to Aiko for allowing him to live with her and Genji. Chores were the only way she would let him repay her. She had adamantly refused his offer to pay rent, insisting that she didn't want the money of someone she considered her own son. The sad look on her face and the uncomfortable and guilty look on his own had ended the conversation after that.

So he did the chores. Like the laundry that he had _told_ Genji he was doing today. He was ninety percent sure that his brother didn't even know how to work the washing machine. Which was why it was particularly frustrating to find Genji's hamper empty save for a mud-encrusted pair of socks. _Why would he go out in the mud in his socks???_ He questioned, eyes locked onto the crusty articles of clothing as if scowling at them hard enough might scare them away to somewhere far away from him.

Hanzo groaned, gingerly picking up the filthy socks and dropping them into the laundry basket resting against his hip. Surveying the area, he found the floor cluttered with Genji's clothes. He considered just leaving it all where it was, leaving his brother to suffer confronting the mysterious ways of the washing machine alone. That was until he realized that, being the gross teenager that he was, Genji would probably just wear his dirty clothes straight from the floor until next Saturday when Hanzo would be doing laundry again. Scowl intensified, he picked his way through the pile of clothes that his brother called his floor.

He began to make his way back to the door after his first basket was full of the most neon collection of clothes that the world had seen since raves were invented. He was in the middle of trying to make sense of the last article of clothing that he had just picked up (It was black with mesh on the legs. Or sleeves? _Is this a shirt? But then what are these belts for?)_ when he felt the sole of his foot connect painfully with something that was decidedly _not_ carpet. His nerves registered cold metal digging into soft flesh and he quickly raised his foot, cursing and glaring down at what he suspected were the metal prongs of an unplugged cord. Instead, his scathing gaze was met once again by his own reflection as he stared down at the cool metal and glass of Genji's VR visor. He cursed louder.

It wasn't broken. Or, well, the glass wasn't broken, at least. By virtue of the thick metal frame surrounding the edges of the glass, and the way that it had been resting on the floor when he stepped on it, the glass was unscathed. He was unsure about the status of the machine itself, though, and he wasn't sure how to tell. He could ask Genji, but that would require admitting that he had possibly broken it with his own stupid, fat foot in the first place. He could pretend nothing had happened and hope that it turned out alright, but that was the shitty, _younger_ brother way of doing things, and he was supposed to be responsible, respectable _older_ brother. Besides, he could already feel the shame and guilt filling him just at the thought. Aiko had gotten Genji this visor as a Christmas present to replace his old one. The old visor was a much cheaper, plastic thing that looked more like a pair of safety goggles than a gaming machine, and though Genji had saved up his money to buy it some years before, he had been more than happy to trade it for the much nicer, much more expensive piece of tech that Hanzo had possibly just ruined.

His guilt coalescing into a more anxiety-ridden form by the moment, Hanzo panicked a _perfectly reasonable amount_ as he shakily fiddled with the device in his hands, pressing buttons until a familiar bright green light filled his eyes, and he quickly turned the glass lens away from him. He blew a sigh of relief until he realized that the light didn't necessarily mean that everything was working as intended, just that the leds were. He shifted his gaze uncertainly down to the inside of the headset. The light didn't shine on this side, presumably to protect one's eyes. He stared at the dark glass, nervously chewing at his lip before clasping the visor to his own face. His head hit the ground.

 

* * *

 Everything was dark. Hanzo swiveled his head around, searching for any disruption in the all-consuming darkness that surrounded him, but found nothing. The visor _didn't work._ Panic filled his lungs like a physical thing, like dark water quickly drowning him. Darkness filled him, choking him as his ears filled with his own heavy gasps for air. Soon his lungs would be full and he'd be as dark as everything around him, dark as his brother's broken visor. _Expensive_ broken visor. Worth more than he was, not that that was hard. He was worthless, all he could do was break things. Break his family, break Aiko's heart, break the expensive, expensive visor. He would take the money to pay for it from his savings account. He had been saving up to buy his own vehicle so that he wouldn't have to take the bus to school and work, but he had to make this right, because everything he did was always wrong. Wrong, wrong-.

His mind's quiet screams and his mouth's loud hyperventilating were suddenly disrupted by a chiming melody.

Hanzo snapped his head up towards the sound just in time to see a pinprick of light in the distance suddenly explode into a giant plume of color, spreading outwards. From there, the space before him changed rapidly, and he realized that _space_ was a very apt term for it. Clouds of dust spread and then gathered, pulling in tighter and tighter until they formed protostars, then stars. Soon there were billions of them dotting the landscape, all going through their own lifespans at a rapid pace, some resulting in their own supernova explosions, some cooling into black dwarfs, others sinking into themselves and forming all-consuming black holes, billions of light years away. He timed his breath to the orbiting of one of the planets belonging to the nearest star and soon his hyperventilating calmed to an almost normal intake of breath.

A logo appeared in front of him, and he turned his head to keep his vision locked on the galaxies before him, only to find that the logo followed him, locked on his line of sight. Soon, it faded out and screens faded in to replace it, displaying various games, stats, settings, and even news feeds. From the look of it, the headset had access to a variety of apps, and Hanzo couldn't really blame his brother for spending so much time on it now that he knew that it had access to YouTube. He wondered how videos looked on the headset. Did they look as if your eyes were the camera, or did they just play as if you were in front of a giant screen? Before he could select the app and find out, the screens froze as a gentle, robotic voice sounded in his ear, accompanied by a matching dialogue box.

“An abnormally high pulse rate has been detected. All applications have been paused. Do you require assistance? Would you like to terminate your current virtual reality session? Any unsaved progress will be lost.”

Hanzo snorted at the cheery voice and crossed his arms as he grumbled, “You're late.” He supposed that the machine couldn't really be expected to do much until all of its processes were online, but that didn't make him any less annoyed, really.

“We're sorry to hear that,” the voiced chimed, sounding not at all sorry to hear that. “Any grievances may be addressed by our human attendants in the 'Help' section. Would you like to go to the 'Help' section?”

Seeing as the last thing he wanted was to talk to a stranger on top of everything else, Hanzo quickly answered, “No! Thank you. I no longer require assistance.”

The dialogue box faded out, and the screens resumed their various actions. He belatedly realized that one of the boxes in the corner was displaying his heart rate. The number was a bit high, and he took a few more deep breaths to try to calm himself further. The visor was working and everything was going to be alright. He hadn't messed up anything this time. Everything was okay. He was safe.

That being said, the slow start up of the machine was still gnawing at his nerves. Was that normal? It seemed a bit long to sit through every time you started a session. Though if your sessions were as long as Genji's usually were, he expected that it wasn't too bothersome in the long-run. But if that _wasn't_ normal, then that could mean that other processes were slowed as well. What if the games started lagging, or the YouTube videos wouldn't play? What if the heart rate alert was actually delayed because of it? What if Genji got hurt or scared in some game and he was stuck there, crying and hyperventilating, wondering where that dialogue box was? Why he was suffering? Not knowing that his own brother had put him through this misery and -.

“An abnormally high pulse rate has been detected. All applications have been paused. Do you require assistance? Would you like to terminate your current virtual reality session? Any unsaved progress will be lost.”

Well, that answered one question, at least. He tried to focus on his breathing as he lowered into a crouch on the dark, starry floor of the VR chamber, dialogue box following. Was it in for seven, out for five? Or was it eight? That seemed too long.

“No verbal or physical response has been detected. If a high pulse rate and unresponsiveness is continued, local medical services will be alerted. Do you require medical assistance?” The cheery voice asked, tone unchanged.

Hanzo barely managed to keep from hyperventilating again at the prospect of having to explain to the emergency responders why they were called for a twenty-one year old having a panic attack with his brother's VR visor strapped to his head, and he could see the heart rate counter responding in kind.

“No,” he responded gruffly, angrily trying to swat the dialogue box away. “I require no assistance!”

The dialogue box faded once again, taking the cheery, unsympathetic voice with it. He knew that it was a fake person, but he was pretty sure that he hated that fake person.

Eventually his breathing calmed, but he didn't stand back up until his heart rate had gone back to a normal level. He had more things that he needed to check to calm his mind, and he didn't want that robotic asshole interrupting.

 

* * *

 All of the non-gaming apps seemed to be working fine based on the quick checks that he made on them. He was positive that Genji had never even used most of them, so he was mostly concerned about the YouTube app, but the videos had played just fine. And, as it turns out, you were able to switch between viewing from the camera's point of view to viewing a large screen playing the video whenever you wanted, so there was another question answered.

The last check on his mental to-do list was an actual game. He and (more importantly) Genji would be devastated if all the other apps worked, but the rig had been rendered unable to play any actual games. Looking through his brother's games library, he chose what seemed to be both the largest and most frequently played game on the list. If it could play this, then it should have no trouble playing any of the other games.

Gently scrubbing his hands down his face, he selected the game. He was almost done, and then he could go back to doing laundry instead of using Genji's expensive gaming device without his permission. In his room. With the door wide open. _Shit._

His very eloquent thought was accompanied by the stars beneath his feet shooting up past him before exploding in a very Cinderella-esque magical tinkling sound, sparkles filtering downwards through the air, giving form to the space around him. Once the scene was filled out, he found himself in front of a white selection screen.

In the middle of the screen were the normal menu items: settings, help, logout, etc. The right side of the screen was blank save for a brightly glowing circle on the floor. Meanwhile, the left side of the screen had the same glowing circle, but within this circle was a...Robot? A knight? A ninja? Some strange amalgamation of the three? It was hard to tell whether the metal casing of its body was armor or some weird robot body, though the glowing lights adorning it seemed to suggest the latter. Glowing _green_ lights, of course. Genji was nothing if not dedicated to a theme. Whatever the case, it was... _Interesting._

Hanzo crossed his arms as he leaned towards the metal body, inspecting its metal face. Well, face was a generous description, really. Its “face” was little more than a mask, the only real feature on its surface being a chevron-shaped, neon green glass screen, much like the one that adorned his own face in the real world.

The robot man crossed his own arms in turn, leaning towards Hanzo until their faces nearly touched. Alarmed, Hanzo quickly stepped back. The robot man stepped back. Hanzo glared nervously. The robot man did not, though not for lack of effort, he was sure. He waved one arm out, the robot man mirrored the movement, and all movements made after that. He cautiously began to close the distance between them, watching as the robot man's feet matched his step for step.

Hanzo stopped suddenly, eyes locked on the text beneath the strange, glowing man's feet. He squinted as if that would magically change the words he was reading. It only made them blurrier. He shook his head and pinched his bridge piercing between his thumb and forefinger, finding the hardness of the straight barbel to be grounding. The action was copied (to the best of its ability) by the man dubbed 'CyborgNinja69'.

He sighed, quickly closing the remaining distance between their two figures. To his chagrin, CyborgNinja69 (though he refused to actually call it that) had many inches over him. He scowled up at the neon green of the cyborg's faceplate, childishly rising to his tiptoes, only for the other man to do the same, maintaining their height difference. He huffed and let his heels fall back to the ground, a gentle 'click' resounding in the open space as his metallic mirror image did the same. Hanzo reached a cautious hand towards the mysterious figure before him, the taller man responding in kind, until the very tips of their fingers touched. Then the white world shifted to blurry color, and he was falling.

 

* * *

The falling was not the most perturbing or poignant part of the process. He and the metal man had fallen forwards for the short distance until their bodies met, and then they sank into each other, _bodies_ becoming _body_ as metal melded with flesh. He would've expected such a transformation to feel disturbing, like an invasion of his space and body. But the sensation was similar to the click of a marker's cap being put back onto its marker: he was clicking into place, and then he was once again one whole being. That being was a badly-named cyborg, but he couldn't do much about that besides teaching his brother to have some class, perhaps.

Throughout his transformation, the landscape around him had continued to shift and sharpen, the image gaining clarity by the second. The blur of green and blue became grass and sky, until he was standing in a field of long green grass, gently swaying in the breeze. He couldn't feel the breeze himself, but he wasn't sure whether that was because the game didn't include the sensation, or if it was simply because he was wearing a full suit of armor.

Hanzo took a moment to take in his surroundings. His eyes fell first to his own armored body, and then to the world he had found himself in. Beyond the field was a small dirt road, leading off into the distance. Edging one side of the field was a dense forest, and when he turned to the side to follow its tree line with his line of sight, he quickly became aware that he had had his back to a large lake. Sunlight danced along the lake's dark surface and he took a moment to appreciate the sight. It was rare to find a place so untouched by civilization in this day and age, and it had been many years since he had even been to a lake.

He was quite literally _knocked_ out of his appreciation of the landscape by a dull weight impacting with his back. The metal feet beneath him were more nimble than his own, and he was able to balance himself just enough to not fall face-first into the lake. That was until the weight hit him again, sending him sprawling face-first into the lake. The edge of the lake wasn't very deep, and he was able to rise to his knees in the water, quickly turning himself to face his attacker.

Said attacker was a three foot mass of green goo.

Hanzo only had a moment to distort his face into a sneer of anger and confusion (he belatedly realized that he could feel that he did, indeed, have a face beneath the impersonal metal visor) before the sentient blob threw itself at him. He turned his metal body to the side to dodge the attack, holding his breath as the slime passed directly in front of his visor, painting his world in familiar shades of sickly bright green before continuing its arc past him. He turned and watched as the monster flew through the air, falling with a sound 'splat' to the lake's surface, then slowly sinking into the water's depths. _Well, then._ he thought, jaw clenched as he scanned the surface of the lake for any sign that the slime might reemerge. He carefully stood and stepped backwards until he reached the lake's edge, eyes glued to the water until he was on dry land again.

Rivulets of water drained from the metal armor adorning his body. Hanzo was flicking his arms to try to speed up the process, quietly pondering whether fantasy metal rusted the same way that real metal did, when a small line of text popped into the corner of his vision, accompanied by a small chime.

_Zenyatta (whisper): Genji! (´͈ ᵕ `͈ )♡°◌̊_

A wave of dread tingled down the back of his neck as Hanzo read and reread the message. He needed to leave. Panic quickly filled his chest and he searched his vision for some way to log out of the game, but found only the traitorous line of text, chiming again as it was pushed up by a new message beneath it.

_Zenyatta (whisper): I thought you were going to be preoccupied with your “bro date” with Jesse today. And yet you are here, but there is no Jesse._

_Zenyatta (whisper): Did you two fight? I would hate for you to have to “bro breakup.”_

_Zenyatta (whisper): All jests aside though, is everything alright?_

The imposter watched as lines of dialogue continued to pop up, shoulders tensed in panic. He had been caught snooping through his brother's game, his personal escape. Shame filled him, knowing that he had invaded Genji's privacy in a thoroughly unacceptable way. Occupied a body that he had created for himself, forced him to unknowingly share his own skin with another. He felt sick.

As shame and guilt quickly pumped through his veins, Hanzo saw one last message pop up before the screen froze and a familiar dialogue box filled his vision.

_Zenyatta (whisper): Genji?_

“An abnormally high pulse rate has been detected. All applications have been paused. Do you require assistance? Would you like to terminate your current virtual reality session? Any unsaved progress will be lost.” Hanzo had never been so relieved to hear such a frustratingly cheery synthetic voice.

“End the session,” he said briskly in an equally synthetic voice that he hadn't had the chance to notice until now.

“Are you sure? All unsaved progress will be lost,” the voice reinstated, as if he could have forgotten in the two whole seconds since it had last told him.

“Please. Turn it off.” His vision faded to black.

 

* * *

 His head housed a dull ache in the back of his skull that Hanzo attributed to the visor until, rising to his elbows on the scratchy carpet, he realized he was on the floor. He had been crouching when he put the visor on, but clearly gravity had remedied that. He groaned and sat up before yanking the gaming machine from his face.

It still worked, at least. But he still felt a heavy guilt settled in his gut for invading his younger brother's privacy. He would have to do something nice for Genji. If not to make it up to him, then to still the churning of his own gut. Maybe make his favorite for dinner? Buy him some of those cheap candies that he loved from the corner store? Before any of that, though, he would start with doing his laundry and then getting the hell out of his room.

Placing the visor on top of the discarded laundry basket, he gathered the load in his arms and rose to shaky feet. He took a moment to plug the gaming device into its charger on Genji's nightstand, then quickly absconded from the room, laundry basket on hip. Gently closing the door behind him, he scanned the hall for witnesses and found only Mochi, Genji's grey tabby, staring at him from the floor of the hallway. He froze.

Yellow eyes locked with brown as she stared him down, large eyes squinting slightly with a knowing look that had no business being on a cat's face. Hanzo frowned, but kept eye contact, feeling judged in a way that he knew was ridiculous. But still, the cat stared. He stared back until finally, with a flick of her white-tipped tail, Mochi lowered her head to lick the white crest of fur that adorned her chest. The casual dismissal made him feel like she deemed him below her, and he chastised himself for his own defensiveness against a cat while he made his way towards the laundry room.

Hanzo sighed. It was going to be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled out my old Astronomy notes to make sure that the description of the lifespans of the stars was accurate, tbh. Astronomy is the shit.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you find any mistakes, feel free to point them out.


	2. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Thank you so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter. They really helped me get through this one. 
> 
> Content warning: Deadname mention. Hanzo gets briefly deadnamed in a dream, but it's pretty quick.
> 
> Note: Hanzo's actual deadname IS NOT and WILL NOT be used in this fic. EVER. I personally have very strong feelings about deadnaming and would be very uncomfortable with it.
> 
> If there's anything you need me to add a warning for, please tell me!
> 
> Also, thanks to Brinn for letting me run ideas for this fic by them, even though they're not even in this fandom, lmao. You are my literary rock. ♥♥

For once his dreams were filled with light. Granted, the sickly green glow that greeted him at the start of his dream wasn't that much more welcoming than his dreams usually were. He was in Genji's room, his brother himself standing before him, adorned with the glowing green visor.

“You broke it,” Genji stated, voice a dull monotone. Hanzo watched as cracks spider webbed on the visor's lens and pieces of glass chipped away, revealing an even brighter light beneath its surface. He shielded his eyes from the light with one arm, and when he looked up again, the scene had changed.

His gaze fell once again upon the softly swaying field of grass, the natural white light washing his eyes of the ghost image of the acidic green light of Genji's room. The sea of green waved gently against the legs of a lithe figure, metal armor gleaming in the sunlight. The figure was faced towards the sparkling water of the lake. Hanzo didn't remember walking forward, but he found himself standing next to the metal man.

“Isn't it beautiful, Brother?” the figure asked in Genji's voice. Hanzo nodded, though he knew his brother couldn't see him, green visor still locked on the water's surface. Still, he seemed to accept the answer. “Do you remember when we went to the lake when we were kids?” he asked in a small voice that made Hanzo's heart clench uncomfortably.

“You were three. You couldn't possibly remember that,” Hanzo insisted, turning to properly face his brother, though Genji didn't do the same. He just quietly stared at the lake, featureless faceplate seeming to express somberness in a way that it shouldn't have been able to.

Hating the way that the quiet melancholy darkened Genji's usually-sunny disposition, Hanzo humored him in an attempt to fix it somehow. “I recall. I pulled you around in an inner tube the entire time because you would cry when I tried to leave you with one of the adults.” Genji's head finally turned towards him. Seeing that he had his brother's attention, he continued, “You were so small, your life jacket seemed to swallow you.” He blew air from his nose in a quiet laugh as he recalled the way Genji's tiny form had been enveloped in bright orange foam, small face bright with delight as Hanzo hauled the inner tube behind him through the water. Genji's visor shone bright in a much more literal sense as his soft, synthetic laughter joined Hanzo's

In that moment, standing with the robotic form of his brother on the shore of a virtual lake, everything was good.

 

* * *

The world seemed softer somehow when he awoke, eyes taking in the gentle light filtering in through his bedroom window. Birds were trilling at each other from their branches, singing songs of peace and safety. Lulled into a sense of security, Hanzo pulled his comforter more tightly around his shoulders and allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence, eyes fluttering closed. He barely had the time to register some distant part of his brain hoping that he could return to his dream before he was drifting back to sleep.

 

* * *

“Do you ever miss it?”

Genji was himself again, skinny legs splashing noisily through the water as he sat on the lake's raised shore. His feet sent ripples across the water's surface and Hanzo grimaced as he recognized the socks adorning them, now heavy with water instead of mud. He had just washed those.

“Miss what?” he asked his brother as he lowered himself to sit next to him, palms resting on his crossed legs.

“Being a kid. Playing. Adventuring.” Genji leaned back to rest his head on clasped hands, socked feet still aimlessly kicking at the water. “Now all you do is work. Work on school, work on your job, work on chores...” he trailed off.

“I started college three years late, Genji. I must make up for lost time.” Hanzo scowled down at his brother as if that would somehow help him understand the feelings of guilt and inadequacy that the lengthy break in his schooling had given him. Three years was a long time, and the seed of shame that was planted within him had had plenty of time to grow.

Genji swung himself up into a seated position and turned to address his brother.“You're only twenty-one, you still have plenty of time. You shouldn't feel guilty.” Hanzo's eyes widened. Maybe the scowling had worked after all.

Hanzo lowered his head, gaze falling to his own lap to avoid Genji's expectant stare. He heard a gentle sigh to his left as his brother continued, voice lowered in concern, “When you came here, I thought things would be like they used to be. I know you only ever took time off of studying to play when I asked you to, but I thought that we could at least have that again.” He could feel the younger man's eyes burning through him. “But when you got here you were _different_. Harder. What happened?” Genji asked, and Hanzo finally turned to meet his eyes, a fresh stab of guilt entering his chest as he saw the sadness held in their brown depths.

“I grew up,” he responded, though they both knew that he was grossly simplifying things.

“You can't grow up when you never got to be a kid in the first place, Hanzo.”

He saw his brother's deep brown eyes fill with tears, until suddenly he was staring down at the slight form of a three-year-old Genji, bobbing gently in the lake that they were both now wading in. His little hands held the inner tube in a white knuckled grip and the fat tears rolling down his cheeks reflected the bright orange of the oversized life jacket.

Suddenly Hanzo could feel the pull of the lake's tide separating him from his tiny, defenseless brother. He urged his body forward to close the rapidly widening gap between them, but his limbs seemed to ignore him, only continuing their unhurried wading. Genji's small mouth widened as he noticed the distance between them and began to wail in fear and sorrow.

Hanzo was forced to watch, powerless, as his brother was whisked away from him, calling his deadname in the voice of an unknowing child. A name that he had buried, but that had now found him in his dreams. He pushed past the awkward, unpleasant feeling in his chest and frantically fought to swim, to yell, to do _anything_ other than just passively watch his baby brother slip away from him once again. But he remained stationary, even as Genji's distant form faded into the horizon.

 

* * *

A gentle shaking woke him and for a moment he thought that he was still caught in the lake's tide. He opened his eyes, only to find Aiko's worried face peering down at him.

“...Aiko?” he asked blearily, sitting up to look at her. She let her hand slip from his shoulder and straightened.

“I came to check on you since you still hadn't gotten up, and you were thrashing around,” she said, voice laced with motherly concern.

“Oh,” he responded dumbly, mind still dulled by sleep.

Aiko tucked a lock of Hanzo's loose, messy hair behind his ear as he blinked up at her. “How about I make breakfast this morning?” she offered.

Hanzo reached for where his phone was charging on the nightstand, checking the time. Seeing that it was already nine thirty, he sighed and pulled his hair into a messy bun. “No,” he told her as he got up. “I will do it.” She gave him an exasperated look, but followed him to the kitchen.

Aiko sat at the kitchen table, playing the news on her tablet as Hanzo got out the eggs. Not feeling confident in his ability to make anything too complicated right now, he decided to make omelets, hoping that even _his_ dazed brain could handle that much. As he cooked, the news faded into an easily-ignorable murmur at the back of his consciousness and Hanzo thought about his already-fading dream. He remembered it in pieces, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget Genji's words.

“ _You can't grow up when you never got to be a kid in the first place, Hanzo.”_

Knowing that it wasn't the real Genji who said it hardly made it any better. It just convinced him that his own mind was working against him, forcing the words to echo endlessly through his head. Regardless of what his childhood had been like, he was an adult now. He had responsibilities that took priority over any fanciful pursuits.

“ _Being a kid. Playing. Adventuring.”_

He once again thought of the lake, of how it had made him feel to stand before it. The way the open field had made him feel like the whole world was at his feet, like he could run for miles without seeing civilization; the way the dense forest had called to him, begging to be explored and lost in, to be climbed; the way he had longed to throw himself into the sparkling blue water of the lake, rather than be pushed into it by some strange slime monster. It was shameful how quickly his mind had reverted back to that of a child when faced with some pretty scenery. He was an _adult_. He should be fantasizing about being able to afford a nice house in the suburbs, not about climbing trees like some oversized squirrel.

Still, his mind wandered, wondering what that game of Genji's was actually like. Beautiful, clearly, but what was it about? Adventuring through wilds and finding long-forgotten treasures? Killing monsters like the slime that had attacked him? From the looks of it, it was your basic MMORPG, but he couldn't be sure without seeing more of it, or looking it up at the very least. But he could imagine Genji's armor-clad hero chopping down waves of monsters with some oversized sword, looking to all the world like a literal knight in shining armor.

He was unable to resist imagining _himself_ fighting in that magical land, slaying monsters and saving kidnapped royalty. Living a more fantastical life.

“Sweetheart?” his brain vaguely registered hearing. He attributed it to the news, but considered the word itself.

Yes, maybe “fantasy him” would get himself a sweetheart. His mind conjured up a dashing knight on a pristine white horse to add to the scenario before, deeming it gaudy and cliche, it transformed the knight into a kind-eyed boy on a sweet, brown mare. He imagined the man teaching him how to ride, catching him in his strong arms when he fell and -.

“Hanzo!”

He shook himself out of his daydream, only to find himself being pulled away from the now-smoking frying pan by a very concerned and bewildered Aiko. Hanzo blushed in shame and embarrassment as he took in the burning omelet and the middle-aged woman running around, opening all of the doors and windows in an attempt to disperse the smoke. He rushed to help her, but was dismissed with an impatient wave of her hand and a curt, “Sit down!”

Feeling useless, he obediently sat himself at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. _Foolish!_ he chastised, as if hating himself would help the situation in any way. It never did, but that had never stopped him before and it surely wouldn't now. He just felt so idiotic, fantasizing about a romantic tryst like some schoolboy. He had even been ordered to sit down like a kid too.

Despite how firmly he insisted that he was an adult, he thought in that moment that he had never felt more like a child.

 

* * *

Hanzo managed to lose himself in his homework, earphones playing gentle music in his ears as he solved equations. His mind tried to wander, but he adamantly kept his focus on the numbers before him. He had almost finished the first assignment when he heard a muffled voice behind him. Pulling out an earbud so that he could make out the voice, he swiveled in his desk chair. His tired eyes met Genji's as the other stared at him expectantly from his spot in the open doorway. Hanzo tensed and worried at his lip, already having a suspicion as to what his brother might be here for.

“Mom told me to check on you, she seemed worried.” He paused. “Well, more worried than usual,” his brother said, eyes searching Hanzo's for an explanation.

Hanzo's shoulders fell in relief and he huffed quietly, turning back to his homework, but pulled out the other earbud to show that he was still listening. “I am fine,” he stated evenly.

He could hear Genji blow air from his nose. “Are you sure?” Another pause, then, in a quiet voice, “You don't have to be, you know?” The sudden intimacy of the question caught him off guard, and his pencil stilled its movements on the paper.

Hanzo was reminded of the concerned look that Genji had given him in his dream. He wondered if the real Genji was giving him the same look, but was too cowardly to check for himself. Instead, he scrubbed his free hand down his face and sighed.

“It was only a bad dream, Genji. There is no need to worry,” he said, voice sounding tired even to his own ears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” his brother asked, padding over to rest his hip against his brother's desk as he talked.

Hanzo considered the explanation that would be required to tell Genji about his dream and quickly dismissed the idea.

“No,” he answered a bit too quickly. From the corner of his eye he could see his brother's dissatisfied frown, but he just sighed and resumed writing. A matching sigh came from his right and Genji turned to leave the room before suddenly whipping back around. Hanzo froze once again, dread crawling down his neck as he prepared himself for his brother finally calling him out.

“Soooo...” the younger man started, and as he turned his head to look at him, he saw him swaying impishly on the balls of his feet. Hanzo found temporary reassurance in the fact that he didn't seem mad. Not yet, at least.

“Are you gonna go to the store again today?” he asked, eyes big and innocent in the way that told Hanzo that he wanted something. His own eyes widened in response. The corner store. Genji wanted more candy. He couldn't help the small chuckle that came from him as the tension drained out of him once again.

He allowed himself a small smile as he returned to his work. “Not today, but I can stop by on my way to school tomorrow if you need something.” he offered as if he didn't know exactly what his brother wanted.

“Could you get me more candy?” the man asked predictably. Hanzo could hear the cocky grin in his voice.

“Of course,” he answered, soft spot for his baby brother shining through.

“Awesome! Thanks, Hanzo!” he heard before the familiar click of the bedroom door sounded and he was once again alone.

 

* * *

Genji never asked about the visor.

Over the next week, Hanzo was on edge both in preparation for his brother's questions and to combat the daydreams that did their best to break through his constant vigilance. He had had a few more dreams about the game and the visor, most likely due to how much he was focusing on _not_ thinking about those things. By the end of the week, he had resigned himself to looking up the game, if only to satisfy his own curiosity.

His suspicions proved correct. The game appeared to be a classic fantasy MMORPG in every way. The website's front page boasted current campaigns, new items, and limited-addition pets, but he found himself more interested in the section that explained the lore in long-winded sentences that mentioned a variety of unfamiliar races and kingdoms.

Hanzo had always found security and peace of mind in knowing how and why things worked. That was the reason he was an engineering major, after all, so the idea of playing a game without full knowledge of its rules and backstory made his head hurt. He knew that his little brother didn't bother with such things when playing a game, always wanted to skip ahead to the fun part, but even though he hadn't played anything in years, he knew that that kind of gaming experience wasn't for him.

He had spent a good two or three hours going through lore, races, classes, and promotional videos before he realized that he had gotten far more into this than originally intended. He could feel a hesitant wave of excitement at the prospect of playing the game that he had already invested hours of his time into. Pursing his lips, he retied his hair as he stared at the holographic screen in front of him.

It wasn't as though he never did anything outside of work or school. He had time at the end of most of his days for a few hours of relaxation, even more so on the weekends. Usually he would spend that time reading or watching YouTube videos, but would playing a game really be any less responsible than either of those things? It was his free time, he could spend it however he chose. Besides, he reasoned with himself, he hadn't played a video game in years. He would probably end up being horrible at it, or not liking it, and would go back to his normal activities in a few days. At least if he tried it and hated it, it might get rid of those dreams.

Despite those thoughts, the gentle feeling of excitement still thrummed in the back of his mind, careful and measured, as if his brain was afraid that too much exuberance might scare him away. What if he loved it?

Resolve hardening, he rolled his chair away from his desk and made his way to his brother's room.

Genji was sitting cross-legged on his bed, hands absentmindedly combing through the fur of the cat on his lap as he watched a movie on his holoscreen. The movie looked familiar to Hanzo, but in the way that most action movies start to look familiar after awhile, so he wasn't sure if he had actually seen it before or not. Probably not with how rarely he watched movies.

“Genji?” he asked. His brother paused the movie and turned his head to look at him, eyes questioning.

“Yeah?” he responded.

Hanzo chewed at his bottom lip. “Do you still have your old VR Visor?” he questioned, resolutely keeping eye contact with his brother despite how much he wanted to be looking down at his feet.

“Yeah, why?” his brother asked, actually seeming interested now. Mochi made an annoyed 'mrp' sound as he adjusted his position slightly on the bed.

“Could I borrow it?” he asked in return.

Genji blinked in surprise, but smiled as he quickly extracted himself from beneath the cat. Dethroned, Mochi glared resolutely at Hanzo as if she knew somehow that this was his fault. Realistically, he was pretty sure that she just hated him. Genji had gotten her before Hanzo came to America, and though the other members of their small family had assured him that her standoffish attitude towards him would stop once he was no longer a stranger, she had never warmed towards him. The feeling was mutual.

“Sure, what for?” the younger man asked as he dug through the drawer with his gaming devices in it, pulling things out by their tangled wires as he searched. Even turned away, Hanzo could still see the cheeky grin plastered on his brother's face.

Avoiding mentioning the game in order to avoid arousing suspicion about how he knew about said game, he said, “One of my classmates told me that there is an app you can download to help you study and do math and brain exercises. I thought I might check it out.”

It wasn't necessarily a lie. One of his classmates _had_ mentioned that they used an app to study on their visor, saying that it had really helped them on their last test. This had been many weeks ago, though, and Hanzo had formerly dismissed the idea, deciding that the risk of Genji drawing dicks on his face while he studied wasn't worth the help that he would get for tests that he was already getting A's on. Grimacing, he focused his attention back on his brother, trying to put the thought of becoming a _literal dickface_ out of his mind.

Genji's head whipped around, green hair rustling in the created wind. Hanzo did his best to look innocent in a way that he was sure looked very suspicious as Genji narrowed his eyes and pinned him with an incredulous look.

“Studying?” The younger man sneered as if the word had personally offended him. “You want to use my specialized gaming console for _studying_?” His face was frozen somewhere between a frown and a pout as he looked back at his older brother.

Hanzo frowned in return, tucking his stray bang behind his ear. “You don't have to,” he assured awkwardly.

Genji returned to his search. “No, it's fine, you can use it. I just thought that maybe you wanted to do something _actually fun_ for once,” he teased, finally pulling the cheap plastic visor out along with its charger and handing them to his brother.

Hanzo gingerly took the gaming device, thumbing over the kinks in the charger's cord from where it had been wound too tightly back when Genji still cared enough to wind up his cords instead of letting them become a wiry nest in his drawer.

“Thank you, Genji,” he said, eyeing his own tired reflection in the headset's scratched plastic lens. Frowning, he looked back up at his brother, who was now back to his place on the bed, though the cat staunchly rejected his attempts to place her back in his lap.

“No problem. Don't worry about getting it back to me, I haven't even used it since I got my new one,” the younger man said as he laid back on the bed, stretching. “Oh, and, Hanzo?” he started, strong eyebrows raised.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I'd play with you, if you ever did wanna play something.” It was a clear offer, tinged with hesitant hope and lingering sorrow, and the combination made Hanzo's stomach churn guiltily. Even if he did play with Genji, it would never, could never be the same as it was when they were children. He was no longer the same person, didn't know how to be the soft, loving sibling that his brother remembered. Didn't know how to relax and fit into easy comfort with Genji as he once had. Now every interaction between them was stilted and shallow. Trying to emulate their favorite childhood bonding activity would only highlight the awkwardness that was allowed to grow in the five years they spent apart, and the three years since then. He would only be disappointed.

Hanzo had disappointed enough people already, including his younger brother. No need to get him excited for the return of something and someone who could never be.

Hanzo turned towards the door stiffly, headset still in hand. “I'll consider it,” he lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> All comments and kudos are super appreciated, even if I don't reply to them all. If you do have a question, though, feel free to put it in the comments and I'll do my best to answer it.
> 
> Next chapter we'll finally start to get into the game a bit, so look forward to that!


	3. Creation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! We're finally getting into some fun stuff. I'm so excited! I hope you like it!!
> 
> Content Warning: There's a bit of talk about blood at the very beginning of the chapter. Though if that bothers you then this may not be the fic for you, as a lot of it will involve fighting monsters and there will be blood. Just a warning.
> 
> If there's anything you need me to add a warning for, please tell me!

_Slice._

_Squish._

_Slice._

_Squish._

Slimes were his favorite because they didn't bleed.

The warm splattering of blood on his face always made his scars itch as though they were trying to remind him of something he'd rather forget. The taste of iron in his mouth, the 'drip', 'drip', 'drip' of red blood on cherry red floors. _Red, red, red._ He couldn't remember if he had hated the color before that day. He didn't think it mattered now.

The blood hadn't bothered him as much since he added the helm to his ensemble. A cool metal barrier between him and the warm blood that he was spilling. But slimes were still his favorite. Squishy and colorful, but annoying enough that you didn't feel bad for killing them like you might with some of the cuter enemy monsters. Plus, their remains made great potion bases. Genji wasn't much of a potionsmith himself, but Zenyatta always appreciated a boost in his potion supplies and Genji always appreciated the cute way that Zenyatta held his hands up to his face in happiness whenever he was given a gift, so it worked out for the both of them. Jesse had often teased him for his favoritism, but Genji was ninety-eight percent sure that Jesse had never done anything cute in his life, so he was clearly less deserving than Zen was.

Okay, that was unfair. The whole cowboy thing had probably been pretty cute until he hit double digits and still hadn't grown out of it.

Genji sliced through a slime the color of blue raspberry candy and spun around, scanning for more enemies, but found only his companion, crouched in the grass so that only the top of his polished stone head was visible, shimmering gently in the sunlight.

He hurried forward, scanning the area for danger one more time before crouching next to his friend, long grass brushing at his shoulders. “You okay?” he asked, scanning Zenyatta's body for visible injuries. It was so hard to tell with elementals. “You didn't get a crack again, did you?”

Zenyatta turned his head with a start as if he had forgotten that Genji was even there. “Oh, I'm fine,” he assured, tilting his head in greeting. “But Genji, look,” he said excitedly, gesturing with a small nod towards his lap. Genji's attention was quickly brought to the palm-sized pile of slime that sat on the tamped-down grass between Zenyatta's crossed legs. No, not a pile of slime, _a_ slime. He could see it moving, fruitlessly flinging itself from one end of its tiny prison to the other, trying to get its gelatinous body over the hurdle of the elemental's legs. It was a common slime, the same bright green as Genji's armor accents. And honestly, it was pretty adorable.

“I didn't even know they could be that small. Is it a baby?” he asked as he lowered himself to sit next to his companion in the damp grass, dew clinging to his metal armor.

Zenyatta shook his head. “Slimes spawn fully formed. It must have spawned as the absolute minimum size possible. It's so very small,” he said, voice tinged with mirth. Genji's gaze rose from the slime to the other man and he saw that his hands were held up to his smooth face the same way that they were whenever he was given a gift. Genji frowned.

“You know we can't keep it, right?” he asked, crossing his arms and gesturing towards the tiny creature with one hand. He hated being the the bad guy, and lately he had found himself overly eager to please the man in a way that he had to admit was less than platonic. But at the same time, he knew that despite Zenyatta's wise nature, he tended to have very little self control whenever it came to anything little and cute. His phone had at least twenty different little charms hanging from it and Genji knew for a fact that he had tried to sneak stray animals into his apartment building at least twice.

Genji watched as Zenyatta tore his gaze from the miniature slime to look at him. Despite the other man's character having no visible facial expressions, Genji could still feel the small pout that he knows _would_ be directed towards him pulling at his heartstrings and he did his best to hold out.

“It'll just despawn once we leave the area anyways,” he pointed out, doing his best to justify the denial both to Zenyatta and to himself.

A small sigh came from Zenyatta's immobile face and he gently pet the top of the slime with one finger. “Very well. I will leave it here when we leave.”

Relieved, Genji nodded and rose to his feet. “I'll get your bottles of goo,” he offered, taking the empty bottles out of his inventory.

Zenyatta feigned a dramatic gasp and made a show of putting his hands over the slime as if covering its nonexistent ears. “Genji! Not in front of the child! They might hear,” he chided.

“Oh, do you think they know we killed their entire family?” He laughed, peeking over his shoulder at his companion as he filled a bottle with pale purple goo.

“You may laugh, but I can feel the fiery burn of vengeance within their tiny soul.” Zenyatta nodded sagely.

“I better watch out then, huh?” he joked back, delighting in the small chuckle that he received from the other man.

 

* * *

“So you didn't ask?”

They sat at the lake's edge, Genji trailing his metal-clad feet through the water while Zenyatta remained cross-legged to keep the slime trapped within the confines of his legs. Genji had removed his helmet and was basking in the sunlight and enjoying the calm breeze on his face.

His shoulders fell and he staunchly avoided meeting the other's gaze. “No, I chickened out,” he admitted. “The second he saw me he tensed up and- and he had this look on his face like he thought I was gonna punch him or something! What was I supposed to do?” he asked, peeking at Zenyatta's face as though the stationary stone visage might betray some sort of emotion or response, but Zen just hummed in thought. Genji ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, it had to have been him. My visor logged a session, so I know it wasn't someone hacking into my account or something,” he muttered. “I just don't know why he wouldn't just tell me. I've been trying to get him to play video games with me for years!” He turned to look at Zen fully this time, raising his eyebrows. “I told you he came up with this stupid excuse to borrow my old visor, right?”

Zenyatta nodded in affirmation. “You did. Studying,” he answered.

“ _Studying,_ ” Genji echoed in exasperation.

Zen chuckled at the dramatics, then offered, “Perhaps he simply isn't ready to play with you yet and is afraid that if he admitted he was interested, you would rush him to do so. If I'm not mistaken, you two used gaming as your primary form of bonding and connecting. Maybe he's not ready to make that connection with you again.”

Genji let out a heavy breath of air. “Maybe,” he considered. “But it's been three years! If he's not ready by now then I don't know if he'll ever be.” He stared down at his lap and added quietly, “And I miss him.” He heaved a sigh and focused his gaze on the lake, watching the sunlight play on its surface. “And it's not like I haven't tried to connect with him in other ways. He barely even talks to me. And any time I try to bring up feelings he just shuts down.”

Zenyatta gently laid a hand on his shoulder and Genji found himself leaning into the touch, willing the iron and stone between them to be more forgiving. Wishing, suddenly, that they were having this conversation in real life so he could feel the warmth of the other man's skin. “You two missed out on very formative years in each other's lives. It's not surprising that a rift has grown between the two of you. It's possible to mend that rift, but not without participation from both ends. You must both be willing to put the effort into it. If you push him too much to do things that he's not ready for, you may find yourself pushing him away from you rather than towards you.”

Genji let out a shaky breath, attempting to ground himself by focusing on the weight on his shoulder as he asked, “Then what am I supposed to do?”

Zenyatta's hand dropped and Genji's focus quickly shifted to the absence of that weight. The other man was silent for a moment before suggesting, “Perhaps try connecting with him in smaller ways. Ways that don't hold so much weight for him. Ask him to watch a show with you, or a movie if that's too much. Try to spend more time with him.” The man sighed, though his stone face betrayed no emotion. “Besides that, I'm not sure. All the wise words in the world won't fix someone not wanting to make that connection with you.” Zen turned to more fully face Genji. “I'm sorry I couldn't be more help. It seems I still have much to learn.”

Genji found himself worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before the feeling of teeth on scarred flesh brought his attention to the action and he quickly stopped. There was a reason he had done his best to squash that habit. “No, you've done plenty, Zen, thank you,” he assured, lowering his head as the weight of the conversation settled over him. “I just don't wanna lose him again,” he quietly admitted.

Slowly and carefully, as if afraid that he might break, Zenyatta pulled Genji's armored form into his stone arms. Genji thought it was a bit ironic that Zenyatta was treating him so gently when the other man was the one whose body might _literally_ _break_ if treated too roughly, but he appreciated the soft touch and quickly found himself sinking into the embrace as much as his armor would allow. “I know,” Zen murmured next to his ear, the gentle vibration of the words making the long appendage twitch slightly.

He found himself burrowing his face into a stone shoulder. Iron scraped gently against stone with every exhale and despite the body against his being hard and unyielding, Genji could feel the sharp edge of sorrow and uncertainty within him dull as his chest warmed comfortably. Some simplistic part of his brain crooned words like _safe_ and _home_ , but before he could contemplate when exactly he'd become so far gone, Zen was pulling away. Despite the elemental's lack of body heat, Genji found himself feeling colder in the absence of the other's touch as the warmth in his chest faded. Zenyatta checked that the slime hadn't escaped before asking, “Do you want to stay longer, or are you ready to go?”

He sighed but answered, “Nah, I'm good.” He rested his arms behind himself and leaned back, looking at the small moving goo ball still trapped between Zen's legs. “You gonna release your slime friend?” he asked with a small smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

If Zenyatta noticed, he said nothing, just let out a gentle sigh and cupped the slime between his hands. “I suppose so,” he answered. “Goodbye, tiny friend,” he told the small creature currently bouncing in his hands in an attempt to escape. “I will never forget you.”

Genji felt his tension drain away, leaving only a quiet tiredness, and he let his face relax into a small, but dopey smile at the cute display. He watched as Zen stood and stepped away from the lake's edge, setting the tiny monster free along the edge of the tall grass.

There was a pause as they both watched the slime, waiting for it to make its way back into the grass, but it was only a moment before the creature was promptly turning back towards them. The pair watched in astonishment as it flung itself back towards Zenyatta, its tiny body rustling the man's pant leg as it flew right past him and straight into the lake's blue depths with a small 'sploosh'.

They both stared, unmoving, as they processed what just happened.

Then Genji laughed so hard that he couldn't breathe.

 

* * *

Everything was bright. Too bright. So bright, in fact, that Hanzo could feel his retinas burning into unseeing husks just from their exposure to the ungodly amount of white light in the empty scene before him. He squinted and shielded his eyes with one hand, grimacing at the affront to his senses. Soon he could hear the cheery chime of the opening screen, but even peeking at his surroundings through his fingers served to be too overwhelming, so he waited until the light streaming in through the cracks between his fingers softened before he took another peek.

He was greeted not by blooming galaxies, but by a pale gradient shifting from green to blue. Though it didn't matter much in the long run, he found himself disappointed. The simple field of color paled in comparison to the starscape he had seen before, but he supposed that it made sense with how much less the current visor cost.

After a moment, a field of screens faded in, and he scanned through them until he found the one he needed: a box in the top right corner that said, 'Gay Lord'. Hanzo could feel himself scowling as he narrowed his eyes at the name. He would never understand why Genji seemed to feel the need to make all of his usernames so juvenile. Raising his hand, he selected the offending box and logged out when given the option.

The shifting green-blue world faded into pale grey and he found himself facing two screens: one giving him the option to use an existing profile, and the other asking if he wanted to create a new one. He selected the latter, and a familiar voice welcomed him, matching dialogue box doing the same.

“Welcome,” the cheery synthetic voice chimed. Hanzo groaned. “What is your name?”

“Hanzo,” he responded curtly, already dreading interacting with the AI.

“Your name has been registered as 'Hand Soap.' Is this correct?” the voice asked as if 'Hand Soap' were a perfectly normal name.

Hanzo sneered at the voice, quite certain that it was purposely giving him more reasons to hate it. “No it is not,” he answered dryly.

“We're sorry,” the voice said unconvincingly. Hanzo huffed. “Please speak clearly and concisely.” And then, “What is your name?”

He said his name slowly, trying to enunciate it as clearly as possible, “Hanzo.”

“Your name has been registered as 'Hand Sewn.' Is this correct?”

He could feel his blood pressure rising. “No! That's not a name at all!”

“We're sorry,” the voice repeated insincerely. “Please speak clearly and concisely.” And again, “What is your name?”

Hanzo took a deep breath and let it out, a scary sort of calm settling over him. “Hanzo.”

“Your name has been registered as 'Han Solo'. Is this correct?”

He groaned loudly, running his hands roughly through his tied up hair. He suddenly understood Genji's use of a pseudonym for his username. He can't imagine that the cheap American gaming console had found 'Genji' any easier to understand than 'Hanzo.' He blew air out of his mouth loudly. “You know what? Yes,” he answered, tired of arguing with a computer. “My name is Han Solo.” The answer was dripping with sarcasm and and passive aggression, but the AI didn't seem to mind.

“Welcome, Han Solo.”

 

* * *

“The elementals were the first to notice, always in tune with the ways of nature and its inhabitants. Those old enough to remember swear that the trees and the rocks trembled in fear of what now lived upon and within them. That wildfires and the winds that guided them ran wild, frantically searching for safety from the unnatural changes that the land and its creatures were yielding to.

“Forests became darker, more dangerous; formerly-docile monsters began to attack without warning; creatures thought to be long-dead myths appeared and claimed large swathes of land as their own, killing those foolish enough to impede on their territory. Monster hunting became a dangerous, but lucrative profession, and monster hunting guilds became commonplace. Society adjusted to the new hostility of the world.

“And yet, the cause of this animosity remains a mystery. At least, to most.”

Hanzo watched the cinematic intro fade out with wide eyes. He had already seen it while perusing through the game's website, but seeing it in person was a completely different experience. Everything was so sharp and beautiful and _real_. He could feel the scared tremors of the ground beneath his feet, the bustling wind against his face as fire danced in the distance, the cool mist of a dark forest. He found himself restless with the longing to see more, feel more, explore more. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so eager about something as trivial as a game. The realization made him feel a bit silly, but did nothing to curb his excitement as the scene before him changed to the familiar white space of the game's main menu.

Eager to begin, Hanzo selected 'New Game' and watched as his white surroundings gave way to dark grey and the text in the middle of the room was replaced with a dark-haired figure that he quickly realized was a carbon copy of him, clothed only in a skintight white tank top and a matching pair of boxer briefs. Next to the copy was a large box displaying different customization options.

Cautiously, he took a small step towards the figure. Unlike Genji's double, his own copy remained stationary within the glowing ring at his feet. Curious, he closed the remaining distance between them. Hanzo 2.0 continued to do nothing; he didn't even blink. Creepy.

Upon closer inspection, he found that his double was not an exact copy; he lacked Hanzo's piercings and his hair was down, swept over one shoulder. He found it strange to see himself without the bridge piercing that had become such a defining characteristic of his face. This version of him was unaltered and fresh, like a shiny new appliance straight off the conveyor belt. Too naked, and not just because of his current state of dress.

Hanzo shook his head free of the thought and turned his focus to the customization screen. It listed four different races, all of which were familiar to him thanks to his prior research. He had decided upon looking at the different possible classes that his character would be a ranger, out of nostalgia for the archery lessons that he had enjoyed in his youth. He hadn't held a bow in years, but he figured that the learning curve shouldn't be too bad since the majority of people who played the game had never picked one up.

He knew that elves and humans were the recommended races for the class, so he ignored the other, more outlandish options and focused on those two. Ultimately, he decided that the classic elf ranger was the more appealing of the two options and chose accordingly.

The customization screen expanded, the top of the box lined with tabs that offered different customization options. Just by skimming through the tabs, he was struck by just how much the program allowed you to change about yourself. Every inch could customized until the face and body before was deemed totally unrecognizable.

Granted, Hanzo could understand wanting to be someone different for awhile, longing for the ability to meld your body into a more comfortable fit. In fact, he would wager that he understood that feeling more than most. But he couldn't imagine that the equivalent of fully-customizable temporary plastic surgery was very good for one's self-esteem.

That thought in mind, he resolved to leave his smaller imperfections be. The notch in his hawkish nose from a nasty break a few years prior, the small creases between his brows that were already forming despite his young age, his dainty ankles; all remained untouched. He did, however, indulge in his pride a bit when it came to more concrete things such as height and muscle mass.

He added enough inches to his height to water down his own saltiness about being short. Not tall, but tall enough, and he nodded contentedly at the change until he noticed that the length had mainly been added to his legs, making his delicate ankles look even more so in comparison. He frowned, but moved on, still faithfully leaving his ankles as they were.

His muscles were a different story. Hanzo was a fit man. More fit than most, seeing as how he worked at the local Kendo dojo. But dysphoria was an expert in fueling insecurities, and he often found his own physique to be lacking, so he felt that he could forgive himself for adding a bit of bulk to his arms, shoulders, and pecs. The skintight tank top stretched to better fit his newly-widened shoulders, and he tried to not feel like too much of a narcissist as he admired his broadened form.

Hanzo stared at the figure before him in thought. Then, smiling, he switched to the facial hair tab and cycled through until he settled on a neat goatee. It suited his angular face and made him look more mature, but it looked a little out of place with the youthful undercut. With a hum, he skimmed through the hair options, fiddling with the details until he felt satisfied with the high ponytail and winged sideburns. Deciding to lean into the mature, older look, he streaked the sideburns with grey and smiled in approval of the noble-looking man before him.

Stepping back, Hanzo flicked his eyes over his character. Something was missing. He knew that his simple tastes were bound to look plain in comparison to some of the more eccentric player characters, but that wasn't the problem. Just like the fresh carbon copy of Hanzo, this Hanzo still looked too bare; too new. But he didn't want to just give him his own piercings. The beard already added enough to his face and he thought that the imposing man deserved something more eye-catching, more sophisticated.

Unsure of what he was looking for, he browsed the miscellaneous tab until something caught his eye. 'Caught his eye' was an understatement, really. It _demanded_ his attention. Grinning, he adjusted the design until it was perfect, and carefully placed it until it fit his body as though it had been made to be there.

Hanzo couldn't stop smiling. He liked the man he saw before him. Could imagine how he excelled in every way that Hanzo failed. The man before him not only wasn't afraid to be seen, he demanded it. Demanded respect and fear. The man before him would never need to clutch his keys between his knuckles to feel safe.

Satisfied, he finalized his selections and chose Ranger as his class before continuing to the username input box. He chewed his lip as the box rejected name after dragon-related name, declaring them all taken. Finally, the box gave his choice a green check mark and 'DragonStrike' was born.

The box faded out. There was a moment of quiet before Hanzo found himself falling in a familiar fashion, his body shifting into place with his character's until he felt that same 'click' and his form filled out and solidified into the body he had just created. Looking down, he confirmed with his eyes that the transformation had taken place. His shoulders and chest were broader, he was dressed in a simple set of common clothes, and tattooed upon his left arm was the sprawling form of a blue dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my stupid sense of humor.
> 
> Next chapter will be more in-game stuff, so I hope you're looking forward to that! I know I am.
> 
> All comments and kudos are super appreciated! They make me feel very loved. ♥♥


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